


Borrowed Time

by isakspeach



Category: Call Me By Your Name (2017), Call Me By Your Name - All Media Types
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Bottom Elio Perlman, Eventual Romance, F/M, First Kiss, First Time, M/M, Top Oliver, Vaginal Fingering
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-25
Updated: 2020-06-25
Packaged: 2021-03-04 01:48:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,650
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24915652
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/isakspeach/pseuds/isakspeach
Summary: “I love this, Oliver” I softly said, though he didn’t realise I was talking about him and me at first. Or he did and then feigned innocence as he replied“What?”“Everything”
Relationships: Marzia/Elio Perlman, Oliver/Elio Perlman
Comments: 4
Kudos: 36





	Borrowed Time

ELIO  
I was sat at the desk staring at my transcriptions. It was a piece by Bach as I had played it to him twenty years ago. He had asked me 

“Play that again” when I stopped. 

“Play what again?” I asked though something inside me burned with the exact knowledge I’d needed 

“The thing you played outside”

I had teased him at that point and played it the way Liszt would have if he altered Bach’s version which I told him. 

“Oh? You want me to play the thing I played outside?”

“ Please” he’d had a sincere tone to his voice and I couldn’t have resisted even if I wanted to 

“Ah” 

I gave in and let my fingers lightly trace the white keys in the slow melody he’d asked me to play as he watched me intensely. 

“See? That wasn’t so hard was it?” he said after I finished with that smirk, I had grown to really like in those few weeks 

I was just seventeen back then but even now as I was almost thirty-seven, I remember that summer in 1983 in northern Italy as though I had just met Oliver and was there right now. 

I had been bare chested just as him and I found myself looking at his chest that was so lean and masculine more often then I’d have liked to admit. 

***  
He had gone into the town of B to get his manuscript reviewed once again later that day and I’d wanted to go with him but I didn’t dare ask as I didn’t want to disturb him so I busied myself with visiting Marzia who for some reason wanted to be in a relationship with me, to distract myself from the thoughts of Oliver. 

I had pushed her down on her bed and instead of giving her my cock as she had pleaded, I gave her my skilled fingers, grazing her clit ever so slightly just to see the quiver of pleasure she gave as I did so. 

“Does it feel good?” I whispered in Italian  
“Oui, Elio, non arrét” she all but whimpered to me in French as she arched her back. Yes Elio, don’t stop. That meant she was about to come and while I sped up to help her reach her peak, I couldn’t help envisioning what Oliver would look like if he came undone from my fingers. 

**  
The next morning at breakfast I couldn’t resist telling Oliver and my dad about my nightly escapades. 

“Marzia and I almost had sex last night” I said casually, and it catches his attention just like I’d hoped because he looks at me as though he thought I’d never had sex before. I hadn’t. Not with him at least. 

What he said next thrilled me at the same time it saddened me. “Was she any good?” 

“It was” I half smiled and wanted to add: “But I imagined you. It would be so much better with you”

I didn’t, though my eyes locked with his and a comfortable silence fell over us for a beat. 

He happily drank the apricot juice my mom had placed in front of him before he looked at me again.

“I need to go into town with the manuscript for today. Care to join me, Elio?” 

I loved the way my name came out of his mouth no matter what context or tone it was said in, for he had never been angry with me and I hoped he never would have a reason to be. How he said it carefully with pronunciation of each letter of my name unlike the others where he said it fast making my particular name almost seem like a treasure to him. One that only he would get to keep saying if he said the word a certain amount of times. I’d let him have it his whole life if he had wanted to.

As he spoke my name again, I kept my eyes locked on his lips just to see the slowly pronounced syllables of my name 

“E-l-i-o?” It was said as one word but spoken so clearly that you could have taken a breath in between the letters but when his lips formed the O in my name, I nearly forgot how to breathe for a second before I remembered that he asked me a question.

“Huh?” my brain was too foggy to actually recall the words he’d said. 

“I said: Do you want to join me in town?” That damn smirk again. It was almost as though he knew just how flustered it could make me and as of right now, I hoped it wasn’t too visible as I got up to get Anchisas’ bike that almost had become his at this point.

My actions apparently spoke for themselves because not too long later we were stood unlocking the bikes leaning against the brick wall of the house as Oliver grimaced over a presumably infected wound. 

**  
As we biked towards town, he wanted to take a detour and instead led us to the lake where I couldn’t resist walking through the icy water. I didn’t complain about the waters temperature as it helped cool down my seemingly heated skin though Oliver exclaimed about it being cold as soon as he stepped foot in it. 

“Oh my god it’s freezing!” he almost yelped but continued to walk through the water as though it didn’t bother him when he reached me and started to invite me to have a water fight only using our feet. I didn’t understand why I’d found his feet so pretty as I did at first but there was something about them that teased the fire that burned inside me for Oliver only even more and he seemed to feel the same about my feet. 

Then natures silence came between us for a moment. We didn’t speak for all of thirty seconds where I just stood admiring him from afar. 

He was leaning his head on folded hands behind it looking up to the sky when he spoke again. 

“I like the way you say things” removed the hands and looked at me “Don’t know why you’re always putting yourself down though. 

“So you won’t, I guess” I whispered in a low tone which made him turn me so we could see each other again. 

“Are you really that afraid of what I think?” I didn’t answer him and moments later felt a squeeze against my shoulder 

**  
What felt like hours later we were laying on the grass spot by the lake where we had discussed how his articles were coming along but he had just brushed off the topic by saying 

“Don’t we have more important things then my articles to talk about?” and for a lack of better words I said nothing until a burning confession made its way up my chest and out of my mouth 

“I love this, Oliver” I softly said, though he didn’t realise I was talking about him and me at first. Or he did and then feigned innocence as he replied

“What?”

“Everything” 

And then finally he seemed to get it, looking at me he asked: “Us, you mean?”

Then he laughed as though the idea of that alone made absolutely no sense to him, so I decided to be a little sarcastic with him. 

“Eh, it’s not bad”

That comment made him push himself up in a halfway sitting position, turning himself towards me and letting one finger trace the lips of my open mouth.  
Slowly.  
My body seemed to realise what he wanted to do before my brain as I followed his example and sat up halfway too, my head leaning in closer to his. We just sat there for a few seconds, breathing into each other’s mouth, my tongue licking over his lips shortly before finally letting our lips collide.  
The kiss lasted for just a second and was in my opinion way too short before he turned his head away from mine looking into the distance. 

“Better now?” 

I couldn’t resist myself. I just had to kiss him again. He mumbled a disagreeing sound against my lips. “No, no, no” and then 

Pushed me away again. “We should go”

I was bewildered, was that kiss nothing to him? “Why?” I asked trying not to show my voice trembling too much. 

“I know myself. Okay? And we’ve been good” so this was about his, no, our religion. “We haven’t done anything to be ashamed of and that’s a good thing” 

I don’t know if he was trying to convince himself or me with his statement, but I couldn’t say anything before he spoke again. 

“I wanna be good” he spoke so softly that it made think he was apologising, which in a way I guess he was. To our religion. 

But as he said “Okay?” as though to get my consent for it, an oddly erotic feeling stirred in my gut and my instincts told me to touch him in that exact moment, to feel the contour of his flaccid cock and so I did. 

He looked down at my hand, a small smile playing at his lips though I couldn’t help but ask: 

“Am I offending you?” 

For a beat he just looked at me straight in the eye as he took my hand and carefully placed it on my knee. 

“Just don’t” 

Then he got up and headed in the direction of the bikes and so I had no choice but to follow him home with my heart pondering faster than ever in my ribcage. 

***  
Oliver didn’t seem to understand a word of what was said at the dinner table but in his defence, it was spoken in Italian, so it wasn’t weird. He busied himself with intertwining his feet with mine underneath the table and I tried to ignore the pleasurable feeling shooting up my spine as he did so but it was damn near impossible. 

***  
Days that felt like weeks went by where we didn’t speak. I didn’t see him during those days as he kept himself busy either working on his articles with my father or going out at night. I wanted to ask where he was and go there but I didn’t want him to get creeped out by me. I mean it was one kiss but maybe I had overstepped his boundaries when I touched him inappropriately in such a public place. I only saw his shadow as he went through the white, French doors at night, only heard the steam of his piss hitting the toilet and the soft snores that would soon after come through the walls between my, his room and the room I slept in every summer when one of my fathers summer students came to reside with us. I really couldn’t hope more that he didn’t hear me moan his name every night as I released all the sexual tension pent up inside me. Or maybe I did want him to hear and then come into my room, discovering what I really wanted from him. 

I was desperate. Just plain out desperate to have him near me even if it was just to talk. The feeling was so intense unlike anything I’d ever felt before. I was anxious that he’d left us. Left me. Without saying goodbye which I imagined when the time came would be like the first time, he said it within my earshot. “Later” It had sounded harsh, curt and dismissive. It gave me the impression that he with his entire being wished to be elsewhere but here and I, Elio Pearlman at the mere age of seventeen resented him from that point.

Now, I didn’t resent him. No, I longed for him the way you only would if you had a lover and the mere thought of him leaving me like this left me at such state of vulnerability, I almost felt naked. I needed him. I needed Oliver by my side as you needed oxygen to live.

I couldn’t concentrate on the music sheets that lay before me, not when I knew he was in the room beside me. So instead I wrote a note to put on his desk he would hopefully read 

Can’t stand the silence. 

Need to speak to you 

Then I went to sleep. 

The next morning, he finally, after three long days spoke to me again though he didn’t mention the note like I hoped he would. He mentioned Marzia. Of all things he could’ve said to me he did that. 

“Did someone have a good night last night?” he smirked. Last night being three freaking days ago thank you very much I cursed in my head. French. Merde 

“Not really” I mumbled, as uninterested in the question as I could probably be. And also, it was true. She had been way too whiny at the time. 

As Oliver was downstairs learning about Greek sculptures from my father, I went up to my room to transcribe more music but as I entered it discovered a note lay atop my music sheets 

Grow up. I’ll see you at Midnight. 

I read the note multiple times before folding it up, bringing it to my lips and softly kissing it. Midnight. Hours from now he would finally mine again. 

I listened to him talk to my dad for hours on end before lunchtime where he sat beside me as my mum told me how we would have guests over that same evening and that she would like me to wear the shirt they gave me what felt like years ago. Damn it, mum. 

“I’ll try it on for Oliver. If he thinks I look like a scarecrow in it, I’m not wearing it” I gave in. 

My mum said his name as if pleased by my answer. He however, looked at me and said

“Hey, what time you got?” it sent a thrill through me. Knowing that he was as desperate as I for the clock to turn to Midnight. 

“2:00” I said as nonchalantly as I could muster before turning away from the table. 

**

The evening went by so slowly that checking the time would feel like dragging it out even more but I didn’t have much time for that either as I was ordered to play one classical symphony after the other so much so that my hands and wrists were aching by the end when I excused myself to go to bed. 

“Oh, I’m so tired” I said and was finally excused to go like I had been wanting to all evening as my anticipation to see Oliver built up more and more with each second that passed. 

***  
The house was dark as I found him on the patio with his back toward me. He was so beautiful in the evening with the way the moonlight lit up his sun kissed skin, making him appear to be a Greek god. My Greek god, if any. 

“I’m glad you came” He broke the silence between us as I too gripped the green railing making him place his hand on top of mine with his burnt out cigarette resting between his middle and index finger as he softly caressed the back of my hand with his thumb. 

“Yeah, I’m nervous” I whispered as he turned me around and we went into his room. 

“I like what you’ve done with the place” I whispered, as if afraid that if I spoke loudly it would break the spell between us. “It’s nice” 

He walked towards me and let himself be completely still. I couldn’t help myself as I lightly bit his shoulder making a wonderous chuckle escape him. 

Eyes met mine. “You okay?” 

“Me okay” I replied. 

Although I knew I only had him for borrowed time. That would be saved to cry about for a later day. Now I stood in front of him and allowed his arms to embrace me. To smell him. He held the embrace for all of two seconds before lightly gripping my throat to gently pull my face towards his as he whispered into the quiet room

“Can I kiss you?” 

“Yes, please” I said back in a hushed tone, my voice sounding so gone, far away from my normal one that I questioned if I had even said it out loud. 

But he did kiss me. Softly even. 

Then we were stood beside each other again. I let my bare feet trace his for no more than a second before he asked 

“What are you doing?”  
“Nothing” I hastily replied, though no trace of disgust could be found in his velvety voice I had grown so fond of. 

He looked up from our feet and to me as we sat on the bed. “Does this make you happy?” 

I nodded softly against his shoulder. “You’re not going to get a nosebleed on me like you did at lunch, are you?” 

My playful mood was amped up a bit more “I’m not going to get...” 

At that exact moment I could not stand Oliver being so far away from me. I wanted us to be closer, so I straddled him, pulling each of my denim clad legs on either side of him. He kissed me. Then he pulled me into a warm hug. 

Then it was desperation. 

“Off, Off, off” I muttered hurriedly, and I should feel embarrassed about wanting another man this bad, but Oliver felt the same as I touched his shirt too. 

“Yeah, just pull it” he said breathily but I fell backwards on the bed letting him take the lead. Letting him consume me. 

“Or I’ll pull it” he said and discarded the shirt elsewhere before unbuttoning his pants and straddling me. 

He kissed me. On the lips at first. Down my throat. My chest, where he stopped only a moment to briefly suckle on my nipples. Down to my unbuttoned pants which he helped pull down. I moaned at that. This was happening 

He opened his pants, pulled them down too and soon we were laying as God created mankind. 

His skin was so smooth as I reached out and touched him. Not curvy. Just metres of skin for me to explore. To taste. To feel. 

Small kisses to my lips again. “We got to prepare you” he whispered reaching behind him where a bottle of Vaseline stood on the nightstand, and I became glad that he had thought of this. My only thought that made sense right now was him. Oliver. Oliver. Oliver. 

I was too tense. He kissed the small of my back, whispering against my heated skin. 

“Relax, Elio, deep breaths”  
I did. Inhale. Exhale. A couple of times. Until I was ready, and Oliver slowly let one finger coated in Vaseline breach my most intimate place. 

It burned. Like hell. He kept his hand still until he saw my nod and began to slowly move it. 

It still hurt but after a while the pain subsided to a point where I felt like I could take more and nodded, let a breathy sound that turned into his name escape my lips. 

He kissed me long enough for me to get lost in the kiss so I wouldn’t notice the pain as much. 

“Oliver...” I breathed softly as I started to feel the pleasure of the situation creep in on me. 

“Feel good?” he whispered as though in awe of my body’s response to his touch. 

“Yesss” I hissed, almost resembling the sound of a snake. 

It wasn’t long until I needed more. I needed Oliver more than I had needed anything else on this earth. 

“Please” my voice quivered, already laced with sex. 

His hands roamed over my bare skin, but no hurry was in his actions. 

“You’re sure you want this?” He whispered in my ear kissing down my ear to my throat, sucking lightly at my Adams apple. I moaned in response. 

“Yeah. Yes, Oliver” I couldn’t think. I wanted him with my entire being. I was only able to make out his silhuette in the dark, but I somehow knew that he’d never been as beautiful as he was now. Here. Naked. With me. So natural.  
“Mmh” he hummed in appreciation against my lips as he took the foil he apparently had put on my nightstand during our frenzied kisses. 

His hands were all over me. My hair. My chest. My hips. 

After a while he let himself slide into me. Stayed there until the burning feeling got somewhat tolerable. My head fell into the crook of his neck, resting on his shoulder. 

Inhale. 

Exhale. 

A breathy chuckle escaped Oliver’s lips. It must have tickled. 

Silence. 

Then: “I’m ready. You can move” 

For a while it’s just him moving himself inside me. Him letting out deep groans. Me letting out the high-pitched, breathy moans. 

It’s not fast. It’s not slow either. It’s the perfect middle ground for it. My hands are running through his hair. 

Needing something to hold onto. 

It’s too much. 

A good kind of too much. 

So many sensations everywhere. 

**

As we lay there naked, our legs intertwined, and bodies covered in sweat Oliver delicately whispers 

“Call me by your name and I’ll call you by mine” 

“Elio” He continues, pointing at himself letting his lips gently touch mine. 

“Elio” I mutter against them. 

“Oliver” He mutters back. 

“Elio” I grip his chin and kiss him harder. 

With passion. 

The core of my body is heating up again as I roll on top of him again. 

**  
“Were we loud?”

I look at Oliver, my body suddenly aflame with shame. 

Burning hot shame. I feel wrong 

Yet so right. 

“Does it matter?” 

I shake my head and let myself relax in his arms once again. Happy 

That’s all that matters. Love is all that matters.


End file.
